


Paris Summer

by shesthunderstormsandlightning



Category: Alex Turner/Miles Kane - Fandom, Arctic Monkeys, Jamie Cook/Nick O'Malley - Fandom, The Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alcohol, Fighting, Finally, Flirting, Guns & Knives mentioned, Jealousy, Kane x Turner, Light foreplay, M/M, Miles Kane loves to tease Alex Turner, Multi, Paris (City), Please imagine the accents, Spy!AU, Work-related stalking (not the scary kind), gun use, miles kane is a "mature adult" definitely not a mess, oasis reference, small fist fight, smoking mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15138992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesthunderstormsandlightning/pseuds/shesthunderstormsandlightning
Summary: Alex Turner is an Information Assistance Coordinator. Miles Kane is a spy with plenty to show off. Together, they have to complete a mission to take down their web of enemies... and try to ignore the romantic atmosphere of Paris in the Summer.





	1. The Last Shadow Government's Puppets

**Author's Note:**

> Woof. Rough start, my people.
> 
> Credit to my Kane Train.
> 
> CHOO-CHOO.

Miles was typing away pointless information on his work computer, sighing because it was so bloody boring. He glanced down at the digital clock with incredibly disappointing results. It was only 10 am, not even close to his lunch. He picked up the sound of heels and a rolling cart heading in his direction and glanced up, eyeing the new blonde secretary named Bridget.

“Kane, the boss is ready for you.” She said, an air of sweet softness surrounding her. Her toes pointed inwards and she only held his attention for a few heartbeats. Even the gray, tack walls of his cubicle were more interesting.

“Thank you, Bridget.” Miles murmured, turning towards his computer to log off. Normally, he dreaded meetings with his boss, but Miles would accept any excuse to get away from his desk. He drummed his fingers against his thighs for a moment, checking everything before he left his cubicle. As he approached the corridor, he noticed Turner stepping inside their boss’s office. He momentarily wondered what an Informational Assistance Coordinator could have in common with Miles so much that he’d join him in a meeting.

Miles knocked once on the door, leaning in slightly. Miles’ boss was hunched over on his desk, his long fingers spread out and his intense gaze focused on the IAC. Directly opposite of him seated in a chair was Turner who looked…bored. Miles wouldn’t dare to have such an expression with Avery staring him down with his single eye, the other still covered in a black eyepatch. He couldn’t make out the exchange happening in front of him due to the low level and pitch.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” He asked softly. Avery straightened up and looked at Miles.

“Yes, come in, Kane.” His boss stated, sitting down in his own chair. Turner glanced at him and nodded indifferently. Miles returned the greeting, if you could call it that, before sitting down beside his silent co-worker. He self-consciously straightened out his suit jacket, looking at his boss.

Cameron Avery was tall and broad shouldered—a brick house, as many said—and honed an intimidating look in his eye. He always dressed in a suit with a black blazer and white shirt. But it was his gaze that Miles noticed the most—the fact that it was almost always afixed on Alex Turner, to whom Miles was only just then being properly introduced to.

“Miles Kane, this is Alexander Turner. Alex, this is Miles Kane.” Cameron stated flippantly, turning towards the large tv screen on to Miles’ right. “Introductions have been made. Let’s get to business.” He continued, his soft Australian accent peeking through his tough facade. Alexander reached over to shake Miles’ hand, which was calloused and rough in comparison to Alexander’s delicate touch. Turner himself was smaller, but there was something in his gaze that held your attention. Miles wanted to hold on to the softness for a moment longer, but Alexander was already letting go and turning away.

“What is that business, exactly, sir?” Miles asked, crossing his leg. His boss glanced at him then Alexander for a moment.

“There are some French diplomats who are in contact with both the Italians and the Hungarians. We need to figure out what the intel is, whatever they’re planning to do…which, if it’s what we’re expecting, will be quite a blow to our fragile EU…and what we can do to stop the spread of this information…As clean or as messy as it needs to be.” Mr. Avery stated, clicking through the photos of the intended targets and suspects. “That’s where you come in, Kane. Alex here can handle the rest.” Miles nodded, looking at Turner.

“I’ll need a headquarters with my own system.” Turner threw in, crossing his arms as though challenging Avery to disagree.

“Naturally, I’ll make sure you’re set up, Alex.” Avery said, his single eye focusing in on the man’s  
offensive stance. Miles swore he heard Turner mumble “Alexander”.

“Where will we be staying?” Miles asked, looking at Alexander, who had yet to utter a word the entire meeting. Alexander quickly met his eyes as if he had felt them burning into his skull.

“You’ll be staying at the Citizen M hotel, at the Gare De Lyon location. Alex should remember that one.” Mr. Avery said, glancing once again at Alex, who had already brought his focus back to the screen in front of him.

“I see no reason why I should.” Alexander stated coolly, his stoic tone slicing through the tension and causing his boss to look back at Miles.

Cameron Avery grasped Miles’ hand in his own, looking into his eyes sternly. Instead of receiving a firm handshake similar to the one from Alex’s soft, smaller hand, he had been given a small file.

“This file contains your mission and information on me, your new partner. I made it up this morning.” Alex said, and Miles wondered if it was out of kindness or protocol.

“Don’t you need one?” Miles asked, somewhat amused but still confused as to what his purpose was. Miles could easily handle this mission on his own.

“I don’t need it. I know the mission.” Alex remarked with finality before nodding at him and his boss, already making his way out the door. Miles noticed Mr. Avery watching him closely as he walked away. But then again, Miles found it hard for himself to look away from the black suit and horizontal striped shirt underneath.

“That’s Alex.” Cameron said with an almost friendly and amused tone. “You’re excused for the day. Flight leaves tomorrow at 3 pm. So I suggest you read that file and load up for the trip.” He turned away from Miles, resuming his work at his computer. Miles felt a sudden sense of excitement. A mission of his own. Well, he was still confused about Turner’s involvement. But he just needed to read to find out, he surmised.

Miles went back to his desk to gather his things: his access badge, blazer, keys, phone and a spare pad of paper. There was only one thing he wanted to do before he left. He put on his blazer and walked to the elevator, waving a goodbye at Leonard.

“You got a mission then?!” His office mate called out with a grin and a thumbs up. Miles returned the gesture and grin, slipping into the elevator. Leonard always had a smile on no matter the task at hand. Miles occasionally envied that trait. He pressed the “L” button on the elevator panel and exhaled a long breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The doors opened to reveal a maze of cubicles and computers. He clicked his tongue once, walking down the left aisle while looking at each name plate. Alexander Turner… Alexander Turner… He finally spied the office with his new partner’s name at the end of the hall. He smirked at the spacious room. Seems as though Alexander Turner was a big shot downstairs, so why was he being pulled into a standard intel operation?

Miles knocked on the door, leaning forwards to peer into small window. After glancing inside, he saw the empty chair and sighed softly. He would have to wait to speak to Alexander at the airport. Miles turned on his heel and decided it was best to go home after stopping at the equipment room. He went down the long hall, swiping his authorization badge at the locked door. Miles went through the scanner while glancing at Chris, the attendant who gave an apologetic smile.

“New protocol, mate. Unfortunately.” The young man said, propping his ankles back up on his desk before pressing the button to grant Miles access.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m sure… You seem so busy..” He sarcastically said, grabbing the inventory log and a briefcase. He loaded two guns equipped with silencers, a lockpicking kit, and several small knives and tools. He jotted everything down in the book as Chris lazily eyed him. Miles then waved a short goodbye to Chris and swiftly exited the building.

Miles crossed the street quickly to be greeted by a less than average Ford Cortina waiting for him in his parking space. Miles put the key in the lock, turning it to the left, allowing it to slide in. Once at home, Miles spent the rest of the evening throwing away perishable food items and packing a suitcase with the essential supplies. He threw on his travel clothes: a comfortable button-up, jeans, and black boots. But instead of laying down to sleep, he re-checked his guns. Cleaned, checked his small gun safe, counted his bullets. 278.

The day of his departure passed by at a snail’s pace. Miles filled out leftover reports on previous missions. After his lunch of grabbing a sausage roll and chips from a shop, he took a deep breath and finally opened his mission’s report. His alarm sounded, alerting him it was finally two o’clock. Miles felt that surge of adrenaline, the excitement of the mission soon to unfold. He grabbed his bags and briefcase, double checked his locks, and looked back at the empty apartment. The apartment that he would never truly call home.


	2. Aviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Turner arrive in France. 
> 
> Kane makes a small discovery and a light connection with Turner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my people and thank you to those moving forward with this story alongside me!
> 
> Enjoy!

Miles finally found Turner at Gate 7. Turner sat quietly with one medium-sized suitcase at his feet, wearing a yellow button up, a black and white patterned cardigan, jeans, and boots. He noticed right away that Alex chose the seats up against the wall so that no one would be able to sneak up on him from behind. Smart.

Alexander tapped away at his phone with headphones in. He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t notice Miles approaching. Alexander ran a hand through his hair, and Miles admitted to himself that Turner wouldn’t be too bad to look at, at least. He was an improvement from his previous partner. Miles walked over and sat beside Alexander, crossing his legs and setting his bags down. Alexander finally looked over at Miles’ arm brushed against him. Miles saw Alex evaluating him for a moment, taking in his bags and apparel—a pair of jeans, a red and white patterned button-up and black Chelsea boots.

“You packed three bags?” He asked incredulously, his eyebrows raising somewhat.

“You only packed one?” Miles shot back, grinning and shrugging. “I imagine I’ve got a bit more equipment than you.” Turner didn’t argue with that and nodded, turning back to his phone. Miles exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers on his knees and checking his watch.

They board the plane easily, Miles hoisting his and Alexander’s carry-ons into the overhead compartment.

“You don’t want the window seat, Turner?” He asked the smaller of the pair.

“I’m not interested in seeing out especially with the probability of us careening to our deaths,” Alexander replied simply, sitting down in the middle seat. Miles almost chuckled, but he saw the amount of genuine fear and nervousness in his new partner's eyes.

“We won’t careen to our deaths, Turner,” Miles tried comfortingly, trying to hide his smile.

“I know that the odds of a plane crash are one in 10 million... My survival rate after the crash is somewhere in the 80% projectile. 90% considering who we are. I know we must ride to get there but regardless, I don’t trust planes.” Turner says rather quickly, his hand gripping the ends of his arm-rest. Miles frowns somewhat at Alexander's display of anxiety and discomfort. He ignores the pilot announcing the usual takeoff warnings, and safety instructions.

“We’re statistically more likely to be in an accident on the ground than up here, Alexander. We will be 10 km above it in a few.” Miles reminds him. “We could have taken a nice train ride to get there... I promise you that when we go back I’ll make sure you don’t have to get in another plane.” Miles covers his hand with his own hand as a form of comfort. Miles was expecting Alex to move away but he doesn’t. Alexander surprises him when he turns his palm upwards and interlaces their fingers.

“I don’t know that I trust your promises yet. But thank you.” Alex says, looking over at him with the smallest of smiles.

They ascend into the air as smoothly as they boarded. The only hitch being the one in Alexander’s breath as they landed.

\---- ---- ---- ----

Once on the ground, Alexander takes charge of getting to the hotel. Miles is more than happy to let him as he loads their luggage into the trunk of a taxi. Meanwhile, he feels the fatigue from staying up all night once the lull of traffic begins. Miles states this softly to his partner, who nods before he goes back to his phone. Miles wonders what he could be doing on there for so long. Miles recalls their flight and the comfortable feeling of Turner’s hand under his.

  
The hotel room isn’t special or large. A king-sized bed takes up most of the space with everything in a red and white color scheme. But there’s also a leaning tower of boxes stacked atop the only desk in the room. Not that Miles cares, he is more interested in the bed as he puts down his bags. He only feels comfortable after equipping an ankle holster and a small pistol. Miles flops face down onto the bed. He thinks about the entry points for any possible enemies: the door and two small windows above the bed he's currently lying on.

Moments later, Alex’s head pops back up from his station of wires and cables and monitors, the boxes scattered on the small floor space. He smiles and taps Miles’ leg as his hand reaches into a small pocket of his bag.

“Kane… Before I forget,” Alex says, procuring a small jewelry bag. He pulls the drawstrings and two silver bands fall out onto Turner’s palm. Miles raises his eyebrows, peering at him with curiosity from his position. Opening his mouth to say— “I know it’s not part of the plan, Kane. But it’ll help with the cover.”

“So are you taking my last name then?” Miles asks with a smirk, slipping the bigger ring onto his ring finger.

“Absolutely not. You’re taking mine.” Turner says, putting his own band on. Miles bites back the urge to laugh at Turner's certainty.

“Miles Turner? That sounds hideous,” Miles argues, twisting the new ring on his finger. Alexander opens his mouth to protest.

Miles laughs and proclaims, “Oh, our first lover’s quarrel…”

He notices Turner’s ears turn a light shade of pink. Alex smiles genuinely but shies away from commenting. Something nags at him that he wants to ensure Alexander smiles again. Alex turns back to his station as Miles drifts to sleep, repeating the names of his targets in his mind.

Miles awakens to the sound of a knock on the door. Out of habit, his hand immediately goes to the gun in his ankle holster as he sits up.

“It’s room service, Kane. I ordered lunch for us. I hope a burger is fine.” His partner says as he crosses the room to answer the door. Miles wipes the sleep from his face.

“Burger’s more than fine. Thank you.” Miles says as Alex speaks French to the young man at the door. His hand still rests on the gun even after Alex takes the two plates and kicks the door shut. He balances the plates as he delivers the one to Miles. Miles almost feels guilty at the quiet display of kindness but utters another thank you. He watches Alex sit down at his desk, astonished by the set-up he had accomplished while Miles slept. The tangle of wires and screens that sits upon the small desk space is harrowing. Miles muses that his station would have been worse. But instead of messy and unorganized, the tangle of wires managed to look neat and purposeful under his partner’s steady hands. “What is that, Turner?”

“There are two surveillance monitors, one of them has software with facial recognition. I’ll tap into the hotel’s security cameras as soon as it all loads. The third computer will track financial movement between targets and any other organizations. Including off grid.” Turner says, turning towards the desk and pressing the power button. The screens come on and Miles has to hide the look of half-awe.

Miles stands after finishing his burger and chips, peering down at the street below. The street isn’t as crowded as he would have thought given the afternoon hours. He watches the crowded traffic crawl forward into the Van Gogh tunnel. The sidewalks remain empty.

Miles walks over to the closet and opens it. He begins the comforting task of hanging his suits and button-up shirts. Appearance is important. He can feel Turner’s eyes on him as he does so but he ignores it.

“Do you know of the exact locations for our targets? That wasn’t mentioned in the file.” He asks his partner, looking back. Alex is clicking away at his several running programs, his chin in his hand.

“Not quite yet. I only have a general area… I should have it all within the hour since I know the ten-mile parameter. Did you read the entire file?” Turner replies, his eyes never straying from the screen.

“Of course.” Miles lies to Alex, closing the closet door and stashing his suitcases. Miles didn’t actually finish it. His briefcase remains beside the bed with the locks undone. Miles looks out the window once more before pulling his mission file out.

Godard Hegel was the first target, one of several bagmen* for the French. He is a man with an unrestrained feel about him at 5' 8" tall. He has slanted shoulders and toned arms, a muscular torso with no tone. If he and Miles were to fight, Godard would likely take the advantage— as long as it remains an upper body fight. Hegel has a straight waist, broad hips, and legs that appear thin. His black hair is long and curly and is typically worn pulled back. He has a narrow face, a chin which is always clean shaven, defined cheekbones, and small ears. His eyebrows are bushy, and his almond-shaped, alert eyes are light brown. His nose is large and he has full lips. Hegel's only noticeable features are his manicured nails, a scar on his right hand, and his nice voice.

The second, related target is Vanessa Hegel. Godard’s wife. Her occupation is a messenger for the same boss as Godard. She stands at 6' 1" tall in heels which she never takes off. She usually wears practical, office-wear clothes as though she has a normal office job. Miles thinks back to the uninspiring receptionist in his own building. She has ruddy skin and toned legs. Her hands seem soft but have killed many people. She has a passive-aggressive air about her. This is particularly evident in the manner that she deals with her husband. She has mysterious, slanted blue eyes, a slender nose, and a pointed chin. Her very short, lank, black hair is damaged.

Miles taps his knee twice as photos of their apartment in Trocadéro are next in the file. It’s well furnished with velvet couches, one chaise near the window to the left corner. A large fireplace which has family photos on the mantle. While the rest of the apartment is furnished lavishly, it is apparent the living room is the most used room. The light grey facade of building gleams in the photos and Miles wonders about its splendour in person.

Miles wonders about the hiding places for weapons. Would the couple even bother with such measures? The couple seems so low on the pole, it is unlikely they would ever be sought after. At least until now.

“I should get some fresh air and explore the city. Would you care to join me, Turner?” Miles asks his partner. But Turner doesn’t respond, his eyes remain on his screens. Miles walks over to tap on the desk, making Alexander finally turn his attention towards Kane. “I’m going to take a walk. You want to come?” He repeats.

Turner frowns slightly, “I have a lot to set up. I will tomorrow though.” Turner looks as though he almost smiled reassuringly at Miles again. Miles nods, straightens out his shirt and jacket, glancing out the window for the third time. “Have you got the burner phone yet?”

“No, I haven’t but it’s only my first trip out, Turner,” Miles assures him, leaning down to check the gun in his ankle holster.

“But there are still--” Turner begins to say, typing away at his computers.

“I’ll be fine. It’s the first day. I haven’t even made a splash.” Miles interrupts, checking the gun’s magazine before putting it back in its holster. “Wait until after I’ve taken care of some players.” Turner glances over at him and nods. Miles checks his pocket for his hotel key before heading out to his destination.

Miles arrives at the expansive square and simply walks, scanning the crowd. He puts his hands in his pockets. Paris can be quite beautiful in the summer, he thinks as he stands and watches the water display as jets pump water into the air. The crowd moves around him leisurely, everyone basking in the summer air.

His hands itch for a cigarette as the scent of burning nicotine becomes more distinctive. He briefly considers walking over to one of the small shops, looking around at the crowd. He nearly does until he spots them: the Gucci leather heels. He’s able to recognize them from anywhere now.

Instead of following his need for nicotine, he follows behind the back of his target. It’s only Vanessa this time but she’s hurrying along with her shopping bags, periodically checking her watch. Miles follow at a reasonable distance, waiting at the same crosswalks as her in the small throngs of pedestrians. Miles crossed to the opposite side of the street, glancing down at his own phone to seem less obvious. Vanessa ducks beneath the awning of an apartment building, ringing the bell for her door. Miles snaps a few photos with his camera, watching her go inside after being granted access. Miles jots down the address in his phone’s notes, wetting his lips, and patiently watching the door his target had slipped through.

Once Miles is sure there’s no chance for his target to come back out, his need for nicotine takes him into a small shop. He hands over some francs for his pack and a new lighter. He steps out in the fresh air, lighting the first cigarette of his mission. This is always a symbolic prize after a task well done. He smokes the entire cigarette easily while he watches insignificant people flow by, stubbing it out before he hails a cab and goes back to where his partner is waiting.

Miles unlocks the hotel room door with the electronic key and steps inside slowly. He notices the desk chair is empty.

“Turner?” He calls out, quickly finding his partner on the bed with scattered papers over and around him. “Turner. Alexander. Hey…” He repeats, crossing over to the bedside. Alexander quickly jolts awake and raises his fists, making Miles burst out into a grin. “Easy with those things, Turner.”

“Oh… Sorry, Kane.” Alexander says weakly, looking down at the papers he has strewn about. “I was trying to get these locations and extra intel organized for you. Did you see anything interesting on your stroll?”  
“Not particularly.” Miles lies, reaching down to help Turner with his papers. “Perhaps tomorrow when you join I’ll get to witness something more lively.” Alexander peers up at him for a moment before getting up to place the organized folder on his desk.

“Perhaps. So, how is this sleeping arrangement working? I’m knackered from running two information retrieval tasks.” The smaller man admits, rubbing his cheek. Miles grins again and slips off his boots.

“Just get in bed and I’ll lay beside you. You can be my little spoon after I shower.” Miles jokes, opening his closet to retrieve pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. There’s another reward of Alexander turning red, making Miles laugh loudly. “It’ll be fine. We’re adults. Just go to sleep.”

His partner nods slightly as Miles walks into the bathroom, still smiling. Miles cleans his entire body with the shitty hotel shampoo, making a mental note to pick more up tomorrow. Miles wraps a towel around his waist after stepping out, remembering he needs to retrieve his travel bag of necessities. Miles exits the bathroom with an air of confidence before grabbing his toothbrush and things. He isn’t sure if he feels a pair of eyes on him or if it’s his imagination. He wonders about it as he brushes his teeth, flicks off all the lights and crawls into bed beside Turner like a mature adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *a bagman is someone who handles and delivers money for illicit activities*


	3. Element Of Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Miles explore a bit of Paris’s bar life, their first experience of what the night life has to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be edited again tomorrow. Enjoy for now!

Several slow weeks pass with no more interactions with the first two targets. Miles is growing more and more suspicious as each day trickles by like golden syrup. 

Kane and Turner are strolling through the square, scanning each person in the crowd. Alexander stops at the edge of the fountain and watches the lighting display. “What’s one place you haven’t been that they frequent?” He wonders aloud as Miles reaches his side.

“I don’t know, _Information Coordinator_ ,” Miles says with a smirk. “You tell me.” 

“Have you been to Le Bar du Plaza Athénée yet?” Alexander asks, his hand reaching up rub his stubbled jaw and then run the same hand through his hair. Miles couldn’t help himself from watching that motion as though he was in a trance.

“No, Alexander. I need to make a reservation for two and  _someone_ hasn’t been wanting to go...” Miles says, watching his hand drop and his ring glint from the bright, changing colours. “But I visited the others.”

“Well, when is the closest reservation opening?” He asks, looking at Miles. Miles looks out at the fountain then turns towards the Eiffel Tower. Anywhere but at his partner in the warm night-time air after a lazy, slow work day. 

“I’ll call now. They’re open... You sure you’re ready for an entire night out?” Miles asks, pulling his burner phone out with a small smile.

“Of course I’m ready.” Turner replies in a quiet voice as Miles pushes the call button and looks at him. Turner pulls out his own phone; his tongue poking out of his mouth briefly while he concentrates. A trait that never ceases to make Miles chuckle.

It’s been weeks with Miles doing patrols or small stakeouts while his partner is behind his monitors. Miles has noticed many things about Alexander Turner during the down time. He told himself it was because there was nothing else to do... He noticed how he sits with his legs crossed but he is still leaning back against his chair. How Alex stretches his long fingers and limbs. How much Alex runs his hands through his hair. How he uses a shampoo for his hair that smells like tea tree oil so when he opens the shower door. The powerful scent of the tea tree oil wafts through the hotel room and lingers.

 

Exactly like Miles’ gaze during the two times Turner forgot his clothes. His hair still dripping down his pale skin… the nape of his neck... Kane had to look anywhere but at Turner during those times, but still caught himself glancing. They never spoke of it but Miles thinks about it more often than he should.

 

Right now Miles should be focusing on making reservations for both of them. But instead of that, his mind is wandering too far away to where Alexander is running a hand through his hair again. He shakes his head and comes back to the present when someone answers the phone call. Miles goes through the call as Alex moves through the crowd, approaching a man selling wine. He smiles as Alex buys two bottles, conversing in French with ease. Alex gestures over Miles vaguely, forcing Miles to wave when the man looks over at him. Miles ends the call and walks over as Alex is finishing his transaction.

 

“Oh, c’est ton mari,” the vendor exclaims with a smile and a wink at Alex, who’s blushing. Miles nods and smiles while he places a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “For the happy couple then… As long as you visit my shop.” The vendor puts something small into the bag, Miles can tell it’s a selection of wrapped truffles. Turner smiles broadly, the truest smile to ever grace his face. Miles looks at the vendor and thanks him as Alex takes the bag, grinning the entire way to the hotel.

 

“Of course we will. Ready to go, love?” Miles asks, watching the color return to Alexander’s cheeks. Miles has to tell himself it’s all for the mission, there’s _nothing_ more to it than that.

But once they get to the bar, things change.

 

Alexander Turner _never_ drinks on the job. Miles reminds him that he’s not _technically_ working right now. Paris is their home for now. After this, Turner suggests an adorable game.

“Order something from the bar that you think I’ll like. Nothing classic,” He says, his eyes twinkling as he reads the menu board behind the bartender. “If I like it, I’ll drink it. If I don’t, you have to drink it.” Miles grins, never one to back down from such an easy game.

“This is incredibly easy, Turner… Come on.” Miles says, taking a sip of his bourbon. The man opposite of him leans back against his chair and Miles feels his foot brush up against his calf. He crosses his leg as Miles looks at the drink menu.

“If it’s so easy, then pick something I’ll like.” He retorts, smirking and taking a drink of his water. Miles walks up to the bar with confidence. This would be _easy._ Then he would be able to ask Alex plenty of questions, learn why he’s a component in this mission.

He drums his fingers on his chin as Alexander’s eyes never leave him. _Belvedere Vodka infused with citrus fruits, vine flower liqueur, jasmine sirup, lime, white egg, Champagne, extra virgin olive oil._ Miles can imagine Alexander enjoying something sweet and bubbly like that…

“A French 25, monsieur.” Miles tells the bartender who nods and goes to make the drink. Miles leans against the bar, looking around as he takes another long drink. He wonders about what their two targets are doing at this moment, if they’re here at the bar or otherwise. The bartender slides the drink over to Miles with another nod. He walks over with an air of confidence, setting the drink down as Turner looks up at him, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh, and this is what?” He asks while resting his chin in his hand and leaning towards the glass, peering down at the contents.

“The French 25. It has vodka, citrus, jasmine and vine flower syrup… I’m not quite sure what that is. There is champagne as well, a couple of other things.” Miles says, taking a drink of his bourbon and watching Alex’s large eyes up look at him. He thinks that he could stare into those large, doe eyes forever. 

“Well. It’s not what I was expecting but we’ll see.” Alexander says, raising the glass and clinking it against Miles’. He takes a drink and immediately grimaces, setting the glass down. Miles laugh loudly as Alexander takes a large drink of his water. He states his review in a small voice. “That tastes like a bubbling perfume…” Miles laughs and takes a drink of his bourbon. “But now you have to drink it, Kane. That was the deal.”

“After that review, not sure that I want to.” Miles groans quietly, taking the glass and raising it. He also peers inside at the lightly coloured liquid. Turner smiles and watches as Miles takes a drink, immediately grimacing as well. The fizz from the champagne hits his tongue first, then the sweet floral taste. Miles scrunches his nose and finishes the glass as quickly as he can. He hurriedly chases those tastes with bourbon whiles Alex’s takes another sip of his water. “You need a better drink and I need two more bourbons. To be safe, will you drink something classic?”

Turner smiles while swirling his straw in his glass, “I’ll go up and pick out a drink for you, plus your bourbons. Neat.” He stands and unbuttons his suit jacket, approaching the bar, and Miles has to tear his gaze away to look out at the small bar area.

He checks the time, it’s only nearing 8 pm. Miles drums his fingers on the small metal table, reclining back into the plush chair. Miles looks up at ceiling, illuminated royal blue fabric draped across the wooden, tray ceiling; embossed, silver metal lines every edge of the large rectangle. Miles takes a deep breath, looking at the bar where Turner is standing with his drink in hand and a man chatting with him. He’s a little too close for Miles’ comfort as Miles takes a drink. It’s as though Alex can feel Miles watching him as he smiles and glances in his direction. Miles finished his drink and goes to stand up but Turner is quickly walking towards him.

“Calm down, Kane. I just asked about this drink.” Turner chides, setting the glasses down and smirking. Kane smirks back as Turner crosses his legs.

“I don’t need to calm down, I’m not upset.” Miles replies too quickly. This is just a mission and he’s only concerned about Turner’s safety, he lies to himself. He turns his attention to the drink Alexander has set in front of them but his partner looks unconvinced and mostly amused.

“I ordered you an El Diablito with tequila, hibiscus, blackcurrant, Pimm’s, ginger ale, whiskey, some black salt.” Alex sliding the glass towards Miles as he takes his own dirty martini and presses the rim to his lips.

Miles smiles and raises the glass that’s been presented to him. “Cheers, love.” He takes a large drink, the black salt reaching his tongue first. Then there’s the burn of the tequila, the pop of the ginger ale and the light flavors mixing together. It’s delicious, much to Miles’ dismay. How could Turner pick the perfect drink on the first try? But instead of showing his approval, Miles makes sure to grimace. Alexander looks almost disappointed, Miles can see it flash in his eyes as they follow Miles’s glass. 

“Really? I thought you’d like the burn.” Turner muses, taking a drink of his martini.

“Oh, I like burning. It adds another level to the pleasure.” Kane quips, taking a drink of his neat bourbon and watches Turner’s face go pink. “Go on and try it, Alex.”

But now it’s Miles’ turn to blush as he recalls Turner chastises their boss for using his shortened name.

“I don’t mind if you call me that.” Alex says calmly, setting his martini down and reaching for Miles’ glass.

Their fingers very briefly brush against each other’s.  Miles’ eyes flick up to Turner’s face, trying to catch a glimpse of _anything_. Of course there wasn’t a hint of recognition on Turner’s face indicating that he felt the sparks of electricity that shocked Miles when their  fingers grazed. But Miles does notice that the glass in his hand moved to his lips much slower than before, while his eyes never leave Miles. Miles can see Alex’s pink tongue lick the rim of his glass, several crystals of black salt making contact before his tongue quickly retreats. Alex takes a drink, leaning back somewhat with his eyes slowly closing. Miles has never seen someone _so_ … Miles quickly shakes his head and everything has returned to its normal speed. Turner’s adam apple bobs as he swallows, a smile spreading across his features.

“This is lovely, Miles. I can’t believe you don’t like it.” Alex says, taking another drink. Alex’s hand rests on the table after he sets down the glass. 

“You can get yourself one or you can finish mine.” He offers with a grin.

He looks to the bar and notices the person who had previously approached Alex staring him down. Alex’s gaze must follow Miles’ because the person quickly looks away with a smirk and a wave to the bartender. Miles isn’t sure where or why but something in his stomach turns. He shifts his gaze away from the bar and out towards the small throng of people who just entered.

“You really don’t like it?” Alex inquires softly, looking down at his phone.

Miles doesn’t bother to answer as he studies each person’s footwear. No Gucci heels. He takes a deep breath and scratches at his stubbled cheek. Alex takes a drink of his martini, gently pressing the cool glass against the tips of Miles’ fingers. Miles finally looks at him and Alex’s eyebrows knit together.

“You don’t like the drink I chose?” Miles decides to tuck away the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

“I can go get you another one from the bar, I quite liked that one. I just didn’t want you to know you won on the first try.” Miles says, checking his watch to avoid Alex’s gaze. He misses the large grin that Alex has on.

“I always win...” Alex says with a smile as Miles glances at him. “But no, you don’t need to get me one.”

“Fair enough,” Miles says with a small smile. “But I do have some questions for you, about your previous work and everything, at least.” Alex immediately looks intrigued, straightening in his seat.

“Some questions, hmm? Was I not thorough enough in my file?” He asks, taking a drink. 

“Oh you were. But, what’s your story...” Miles begins to ask, running the tip of his finger along the rim of his glass.

“Morning Glory?” Alex and Miles say in unison. Both of them bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Did you just make a joke, Turner?!” Miles says, still laughing. Alex grins and shrugs, his eyes lighting up. “I never thought that I would ever hear that from you, Mr. Turner…”

“I am able to laugh, Mr. Kane.” Alex says with a smile and sip of his drink. “But what was your question?”

“I was just wondering—“ Miles begins to say before he gets interrupted. Again. 

“Voilà, votre boisson, monsieur.” The waiter announces as he reached the table. He sets another El Diablito down in front of Alex, who looks shocked. "Ce monsieur lá m'ai préposé à te donner ça.” Alex looks up at the bar and the man winks, raising his glass and taking a drink. Alex blushes a deep pink shade, taking a drink from his newly appeared glass. Miles on the other hand, finishes his bourbon in two drinks; then quickly downs his next. He forces himself not to look at Alex and the man at the bar.

“He’s coming over, Miles.” He hears Alex whisper fervently.

Miles bites his lip in order not to mumble something snarky. He takes another drink as the man approaches. He can sense Alex’s shift in demeanor and is already annoyed by this encounter. Alex nudges Miles’s foot with his but instead Miles looks out to other side of the room. He’s not sure who he’s more aggravated with, his partner or the stranger. Alex kicks him roughly underneath the table making Miles jump slightly and look at Alex. Alex glances quickly at Miles then back at the man.

The man is tall, 6’3” with just a white button up and a pair of khakis on but it’s the air of confidence that he has that annoys Miles the most. And the fact that he invites himself to sit down at their table with a self satisfied smirk. He doesn’t hear Alex introduce him so he takes a drink of his own El Diablito so he sits idly. He pulls out his phone to fake that he’s looking something… until the stranger reaches to touch Alex’s slender wrist. Miles’ eyes snap up like a rubber band.

Alex clears his throat and shakes his head. Miles notices his martini, a bourbon, and his own El Diablito are both gone. All of his senses burst with the need to punch this guy in the face. The man is leaning in, his mere presence setting Miles on edge. Miles finishes every single drink in front of him, including the French 25, not caring about the burn and floral notes.

Alarms go off in his Miles’ head when the man covers Alex’s hand with his own and leans in ever closer. Miles can’t keep it in any longer and blurts, “I’m right here.” The man blatantly ignores Miles and moves his hand even further up Alex’s arm and he whispers something in his ear, Alex’s face turning pink.

 

It happens in a blur. Somehow the man from the bar is on the floor and Miles’ fist is bloodied.

 

Alex is sitting in his seat, stunned.

 

“Miles…” He pleads, his eyes widening as Miles’s fist curls again. The man is back to his feet quickly, shoving Miles into the table. Security quickly makes their way over, breaking up the short scuffle. But it’s not long before the fight carries over outside the building. Miles lands expert blows to his target, completely ignoring Alex’s words. Alex finally pulls Miles away from the man, who’s lying on the sidewalk. 

Alex is still holding onto him, “Miles! You can’t just _hit someone!_ We’re supposed to be... you could _haveblownyourowncover_ by _being so attractive and acting foolish in the middle of a fight_!” Alex is slurring some words and looking at Miles who’s currently touching his busted lip. Miles know he may have gone too far punching, then kicking that man. He hadn’t  even noticed the other man land a hit.

“Oh, being attractive?” Miles asks him with a grin that makes him _almost_ want to wince in pain. He looks up at his partner who’s frowning.

“N-No. I meant attracting attention to yourself… Right in the middle of the bar…” Alex rambles, trailing off and opening the taxi door.

Miles didn’t even notice that it had been hailed. A security guard was advancing towards them, Alex pushed Miles towards the taxi with surprising force. Miles watches him through the taxi window, telling the driver the address of the apartment. Miles rests his head against the cool glass for a moment, only seeing Alex’s frown. Miles couldn’t allow anyone to touch Alex that way.

Alex slides into the car, looking at Miles. “That was another target, Miles.” He whispers softly as the taxi begins its journey towards its destination.

“He, what?” Miles asks, snapping his head towards Alex. 

“That. Was. A. Target.” Alex repeats, a sharp edge to his voice. “You cost us a target… by trying to be… whatever you were trying to be.” Miles furrows his brow and grimacing.

“I couldn’t let him touch you like that.” Miles says in a soft, almost defeated voice. Something Alex’s expression softens a bit.

“I could have handled myself.” He says with finality and leaning closer to Miles. Miles looks into his eyes, he never noticed they were such a gorgeous, deep brown color illuminated by the passing lamp posts. Alex’s eyes are focused on Miles’ lip. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ve had much worse, love.” Miles smirks, drumming his fingers on the top of his thigh. Miles forces himself to look away and then out the window. The lull of the taxi makes Miles’ limbs feel heavy. When they reach the hotel, Alex is fully stumbling out onto the pavement, Miles having to hold him by the waist. “Easy there, tiger.”

Alex grins and loops an arm around the man’s neck. Somehow Miles manages to get both of them up to the room, Alex insists on putting the card in the slot. Miles watches him fumble for it and triumphantly open the door. He’s mumbling something, entirely pleased with himself. Miles smiles and watches him half flop down onto the bed, one leg tucked underneath him.

“Miles, will you help me?” Alex asks. Miles loves hearing his soft, tender voice float through the air and is more than happy to oblige. He nods and kneels down, pulling Alex’s blazer off. He works as quickly as possible, trying not to allow his hands to stray past the edges of his clothes. He unbuttons Alex’s dress shirt, peeling it off as Alex slumps against Miles’ shoulder. “Thank you.” He mumbles, reaching down to unfasten his belt and pants, drunkenly shimmying out of them after Miles removes Alex’s Chelsea boots.

“You’re welcome, Alex.” Miles replies softly, he pulls back the soft covers. “Let’s get you to bed.” Alex mumbles something, his large eyes already closed. Miles smiles fondly at him for a moment before he undresses and slides in beside him. Alex’s hand finds Miles’ busted knuckles in his slumber and Miles tucks away that blossoming feeling.


	4. My Little Red Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles breaks into his target's flat and finishes the job. 
> 
> Well. One of the jobs he planned to finish. There's still one waiting at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this chapter took so long to write, everything has been so crazy busy!

Miles wakes up before Alex, their hands still holding onto each other. Miles groans softly and stretches his legs somewhat. Miles would never admit it out loud, but he didn’t want to leave this safe haven every morning wherein Alex always ends up touching him. Typically, it’s a hand on Miles’ torso or upper arm so Miles has to carefully remove his hand from Alex’s grip and slide out of bed.

He looks over at Alex, his hair puffed out and spread across the white pillowcases, his nose and forehead pressed against Miles’s shoulder. This was the closest they’d ever been. Miles smiles despite the split on his lip cracking a bit. In his deep slumber, Alex’s nose still scrunches at the loss of contact as he rolls over.

Miles know that something has got to happen today before he acts on the fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. More than anything, he needs to get this mission done before an unfortunate event like last night happens again.

He lets the hot water run over his skin as he sighs loudly in the shower, he was sorer than he thought he’d be from a small scuffle. Perhaps it was due to have to curve around Alex’s sprawled body during the night. It had been nearly eight months since Miles was in Hungary, fighting with whoever was the target. It had been even longer since had shared a bed with someone for more than one or two nights. By now, he had already forgotten the names of the targets and the others.

He goes through his morning routine, and when he’s leaving Alex is still sleeping. He makes sure the door locks behind him after casting one last glance at Turner.

There’s the soft crunch of stray pebbles against the concrete underneath Miles’ boots as he approaches the back of the apartment building which houses Godard and Vanessa Hegel. He isn’t entirely sure what he’ll find there but he’s prepared for an encounter: one gun in the band of his jeans, and two knives. He hoists himself up onto the fire escape and begins his ascent to the Hegel’s flat.

Fourth floor. There’s an empty apartment near theirs. He first needs to get in through the window and then gain access to their flat down the hall using whatever method needed. His phone vibrates in his pocket which he ignores as he jimmies the window lock and then slides inside the empty flat. Miles is expecting for Godard to be there, he wasn’t even focused on Vanessa considering he had tailed her and saw her departing on a train at the beginning of his work day.

Miles made his way down the hall and approached the only obstacle between himself and his mission’s first two targets, the door to 421. He procures the lock-picking kit from his leather jacket’s pocket and leans down to the knob. It takes him no time at all to break into the aforementioned flat and he doesn’t see Godard whatsoever. Miles sneaks through the small hall, stepping as quietly as possible.  
  
He gains access to the small office and begins looking through everything that he can, he pulls out his phone to swipe away the missed call from Alex and take photos of the small red book, which held the information for one French account transferring money to an account in Hungary. Just like Alex had found through his searches. But he had forgotten to turn the flash and sound off for his camera. A loud, incriminating camera shutter sounds through the silent apartment. He reaches one hand for his gun as he turns around slowly. Miles slips the small, red notebook into his blazer’s pocket.

“Who the hell are you?!” Godard asks with an enraged expression and one hand on the doorknob. Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. It would only take Godard six steps to clear the distance between them.

“I’m Miles Turner.” Miles lies as he smiles ruefully and grips the handle on his gun. “I’m just here to get some information about your business with Hungary. Then take care of you.”

Godard wasted no time, advancing towards Miles before he could even finish his last two sentences. Godard goes directly for Miles’s face with a closed fist. Miles dodges the first punch. There are two, quick blows to Miles’ abdomen which take his breath away every time. Miles lands and blocks as many hits as he can as he's being pressed against the cabinet desk. MIles stomps on Godard’s foot but it does nothing. He’s able to knee the taller man in the groin and bring them both down to the ground using his center of gravity. Godard pivots and rolls Miles onto his back, snarling insults in French. Miles’ head hits against the hard wooden desk drawers.

“I’ll kill you or die before you can get any of the information.” Godard snarls, his dark eyes getting darker.

One of Godard’s large hands grabs Miles’ hair roughly and brings his head back against the wooden drawers again, causing Miles to yell in agony. Miles punches at Godard’s ribs repeatedly elbows him in the head twice. Godard yells loudly and curses. MIles takes the palm of his hand and slams roughly into the bridge of Godard's nose. A loud crack of bone echoes before Godard screams, clutching at his face.

Miles was soon able to throw the man off of him and grab his gun.

“I’d say the latter,” Miles replies as he quickly clicks the safety off and pulls the trigger back. He shoves the barrel into Godard’s temple. In Godard’s eyes, there’s a small flash of concern and pain. But the dark clouds return and his eyes narrow as he spits blood and saliva in Miles’ face.

Miles got what he came for: information and he doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Miles blinks slowly and wipes away the blood that has splattered all over him. There’s a slight ringing in his ears as begins to clean.

\----------

Miles returns to their shared flat and is barely able to put the key in the lock, his hands still trembling from the adrenaline. He wipes off the imaginary blood once more on his pants.

When he opens the door, travels through the small foyer and then up the stairs he’s greeted by two scents: something cooking in the oven and tea tree oil. Miles groans, meaning to be quiet, but then he hears the office chair scrape against the floor and Alex’s approaching footsteps. What he sees is so much better; Alex’s bare feet burying in the red, patterned rug. He’s dressed in a pair of soft, low slung khaki slacks and a white shirt that’s practically stuck to his skin. Miles doesn’t even care that he’s staring.

“Miles? Are you hurt?” Alex asks, his eyebrows knitting. Miles flexes his hands to keep from grabbing Alex’s damp shirt.

“I’m fine, Turner.” He says, running his bottom lip through his teeth. But Alex is stubborn, Miles knows that, as he approaches Miles’ leaning frame. The smell of his shampoo goes straight to Miles’ head.

“You’re sure?” Alex asks, his eyes widening as his hands reach for Miles’ shirt and blazer which is covered in someone else’s blood. It was as though Alex believed his very touch could heal Miles. Miles almost believed it himself. Instead, he grabbed both of Alex’s wrists before they could go any further.

“Alex, I’m sure. I’m fine.” He repeats, gently releasing Alex’s wrists from his grasp. Alex is looking at him with wide, shocked eyes and parted lips. He could almost ignore it until those pink lips turn into a slight pout. Miles needs to do something before he explodes again. Miles’ impulsivity has never truly been under control if he’s honest.

So Miles does the one thing he’s been wanting to do for weeks…

He places both hands on each side of Alex’s face and pulls him into their first kiss.

Alex’s hands grab at his shirt again and this time Miles doesn’t stop him. He knew he would be in trouble right when their lips first met but he moves forward, pulling Alex against him. Alex’s breathing was already heavy when he broke the meeting between their lips.

“I think it’s time for you to clean those clothes. I’ll soak them in the sink,” Alex states matter-of-factly, Alex presses one more kiss to Miles’ lips before leaving Miles standing in the living room. Miles can only blink a few times, trying to push back the lust that was clouding his thoughts. Alex turns the water on in the kitchen, Miles can see his toned back through his shirt and tries to look anywhere else as he walks into the room. Miles notices Alex peering at him with the same expression through the reflection of the window. Miles nimbly unbuttons his blood-stained shirt, shrugging off his blazer. “Cold water helps to break down the proteins and it’ll be easier to remove the blood,” Alex explains, still staring Miles down.

Miles unbuckles his belt and Miles pulls the belt through each loop, allowing his pants to drop completely fall to the floor. He sees Alex’s hands grip the edge of the countertop. Miles smiles to himself as he picks up all of his clothes and walks up behind Alex, pressing against his back.

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs, ghosting a kiss on the shell of Alex’s ear. Miles revels in the sight of Alex’s white knuckles against the countertop as Miles drops his bloodied clothes into the sink. Alex bites his lip and his eyes flutter for a flash of a moment. Alex attempts to clear his throat as Miles’ hands cover Alex’s. He waits for an actual indication that Alex wants this, so he remains pressed against his back. Miles can feel his heart pounding.

Miles receives the indication when Alex leans his head back to kiss on Miles’ stubbled jaw. Miles grasps Alex’s hands again and turns him around to finally meets Alex’s gaze fully. The lust in Alex’s eyes hits him as roughly as the blows he was receiving hours ago. Alex is the one to close the gap between them this time. Miles slides his hands up Alex’s forearms and rest on his shoulders. Alex pulls him impossibly closer as he tugs on Miles’ undershirt, causing Miles to chuckle softly.

“You’re quite eager, Turner.” Miles teases before he kisses the shorter man openly. Alex almost sighs

“There’s blood on this too.” He replies into Miles’ mouth before he yanks it over Miles’ head and also drops it into the sink. Alex’s hands fall on Miles’ shoulders as their kiss deepens every more.

“I didn’t see any… Sure that wasn’t an excuse to get me mostly naked?” Miles teases Alex, slowly unbuttoning Alex’s shirt. Alex cracks a smile and shrugs his shoulders before peeling his own shirt off.

“I’ve seen you mostly naked before, it’s not like I’m blind to how toned you are,” Alex replies softly. Miles chuckles and dips down to kiss the nape of Alex’s neck.

“You could touch instead of just looking, love.” He murmurs softly against the tender skin there as Alex’s back arches slightly. Miles mentally notes that reaction and reaches down to unbutton his partner’s khakis. But as soon as Alex’s trousers are unzipped and he’s running his hands down Miles’ chest, the phone in his pocket rings.

Miles groans quietly and looks at Alex. “Don’t pick up.”

“But- ” Alex begins to say, reaching down into his pocket.

“Tell them we’re on a mission, Alex,” Miles interjects with a few quick kisses to Alex’s soft lips. Alex gives a stern look for a moment but smiles.

“It could be important.” Alex reasons, biting his lip when Miles sucks on his neck and flattens against his bare chest.

“I think my mission to have us both satisfied by the end of the night is more important.” Miles retorts, kissing on Alex’s neck again. Alex’s hand almost trembles as he answers the phone.

“Hello, Mr. Avery.” He says shakily. Miles barely listens to what Alex is saying while he focuses on the spots that make Alex’s hand grip his forearm. The freckle on the right side of his neck. Miles is most surprised when Alex’s hand slides to Miles’s chest, moving slowly downwards. Once he hears Alex laugh at something said on the phone Miles covers Alex’s mouth with his own, a purely selfish act as he tries to drink in the soft, sweet sound.

But it soon comes skidding to a halt when he hears Alex ask a single question. “I’m sorry, did you just say Miles is leaving?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no... Cliffhanger...
> 
> Also, does anyone want to see what the flat that Alec and Miles are staying in? It's based on a real flat.
> 
> Cheers as always for reading,


	5. This Is Your Life: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Miles deal with the immediate reactions to the phone call he receives.
> 
> Alex’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this two-part chapter took so long everyone! Enjoy!

The never-ending spiral of passion that Alex had felt for the past two months was now careening towards the pit of Alex’s hollow stomach. 

 

He took a deep breath and tried to physically separate himself from his partner, but instead his partner’s lightly calloused hand enveloped around his with a tender kiss on his cheek and jaw. Something clanged against his rib cage from these small, quiet signs of affection as Cameron Avery spoke on the other end of the line. More and more about a conference Alex didn’t want to discuss because it meant Miles would be leaving for an “undetermined amount of time”. Alex simply hung up the phone, nearly shaking again. He hadn’t been this close to anyone since his second mission, the one he doesn’t discuss.

 

“Alex. What did he say?” Miles asks softly, holding Alex’s hand to his chest.

 

“You’re supposed to go on a mission, for a conference where four of the targets are meeting for an undetermined length of time…” Alex mumbles. Miles groans audibly, rolling his eyes.

 

“Right when we get started enjoying ourselves,” Miles begins, allowing a moment to pass before reassuring him. Alex admits to himself that he does find a small bit of comfort in the steady heartbeat he feels underneath his hand. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be gone forever.” Miles concludes, leaning in closer to Alex.

 

Alex closes his eyes, missing Miles searching his face intently as though searching for an answer to a riddle he hasn’t solved yet. But Alex is the one to lean forward and press his lips softly against Miles’. The stubble on Miles’ chin makes Alex nearly crinkle his nose and smile. Alex allows his hand to resume its downward descent as continues to kiss Miles openly. Miles is the first one to, unfortunately, pull away from Alex however this doesn't last very long as his thumbs rest inside of the waistband of Alex’s khakis. It takes barely a tug and they're pooled at Alex’s feet alongside his white shirt. Alex looks down at them and thinks about how soft those items were and yet they pale in comparison to the man standing so incredibly close to him. How easy they were to discard. Alex already felt he couldn't discard his feelings of concern for Miles, and especially not the lust.

 

Alex has been staring down and studying long enough, trapped in his thoughts that Miles places a hand on Alex's cheek softly. Which brings him back to the present moment, the stubbled chin and deep brown eyes which darken even more when they meet Alex's.

 

”Alex… If this isn't… Is it even…” Miles begins, his eyes suddenly looking away to the white cabinets behind Alex’s head.

 

”Miles, this is desperately what I want.” Alex interrupts, answering his unasked question. Alex smiles despite the nerves of his entire body telling him to slow down. ”You're not usually the one trailing off, Kane.” 

 

This last teasing sentence is what brings Miles’ lips back to his. Miles' hands burrow their way into Alex’s thick, soft, somewhat dampened hair while his mouth claims ownership over Alex’s. In one sudden movements, Miles wraps one arm around Alex’s waist and hoists him up onto the cold countertop. His hand never leaves Alex’s hair as Alex’s short nails lightly drag upon the skin of Miles’ chest. They both are gasping for air and they couldn’t get much closer. Alex’s legs wrap around Miles’ waist while his arms wrap around Miles’ neck. His fingers lightly tug on Miles’ short hair and Miles groans much to Alex’s delight.

 

Alex is the one to break the silence with only two words, ”Miles. Please.” They exchange breaths in the softly lit kitchen. Alex was surprised in himself for even saying a single word, pushing their current situation forward… But he needed more of Miles, he admits once again to himself and Miles aloud as he feels his face heat up. 

 

But then, the oven beeps loudly in the relatively silent flat. Somewhere in the distance there’s soft music playing, a sweet melody set to the rhythm of two lovers heartbeats.

 

Alex shake his head very slightly and is thankful he remembered to at least set the timer. 

 

”I'll get it, Turner...” Miles says, his lips grazing against Alex’s with every word. Alex wonders if he’s truly going to get the lasagna out of the oven as his lips hover millimetres away from his own. They’re staring into each other eyes and Alex is the first to smile sheepishly and break away. Miles takes a single step backwards, his eyes sweeping up and down Alex’s still seated figure. 

 

“You are quite the sight.” He sighs softly, his hands resting on Alex’s knees. He spins to face the oven while Alex wishes for his longer hair to hide his blushing cheeks behind. Miles steals a couple more glances at Alex while he removes the lasagna from the oven and sets it on the table. It smells heavenly and as a reaction, he can feel and hear his stomach growl. Alex mentally checks and notes he hasn’t eaten all day long. Miles crosses back over to him, leaning in close. He presses his lips to Alex’s warm cheek as he reaches to take two plates down for them both. 

 

“We can press pause and eat, you’ll need the energy.” He says in a teasing tone and a large smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

 

Alex decides in that instant, with Miles’ smile and leaning against the table that he can’t listen to another word from Miles’ mouth. He needs to kiss him more and hear the noises he makes when Alex is kissing his neck.

 

He closes the distance and the table scrapes with the sudden movement of their bodies against it. Miles nearly grunts with the force of Alex’s body against his, but his hands are already in his hair. Alex can feel the electricity between them. There are no words exchanged anymore, just heavy breaths and a closer proximity. Alex doesn’t let him go or back away this time; Miles does the same and they move fully in sync. But it’s Miles’ hands that take Alex’s and lead them both to the room that they share.

 

                   —To Be Continued—

**Author's Note:**

> This is just laying the groundwork. Better chapters lie ahead!


End file.
